


Money No Object

by Ekatarinabeisel76



Series: A Bad Joke [2]
Category: Highlander: The Series
Genre: Coming Out, Immortal Violence, M/M, Richie vs Car, Theft, bonnie and clyde - Freeform, british snark, bruisedandbattered!Richie, protective!Carter, shared showers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-15
Updated: 2012-04-15
Packaged: 2017-11-03 16:30:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/383542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ekatarinabeisel76/pseuds/Ekatarinabeisel76
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Carter landed a chaste kiss on the younger immortals lips, but he managed to take in the flavor of cornflakes and milk before he pulled away. He looked at him apologetically and flashed him one of his signature brilliant smiles.<br/>	“Can you blame me? You’re lucky I don’t tie you to the bed. Women today, they just cannot be trusted.” He joked.<br/>	“Too true, especially Amanda, but she’s even worse if you stand her up, which is why I have to get going.” He said as he retreated from the table by walking backwards into the kitchen. He deposited his bowl in the sink, and donned his jacket.<br/>	“In that case, I give you permission to chauffer a mentally unstable female immortal, just be back for lunch.” Carter said with his lips set in a smile as he went back to reading his newspaper.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Money No Object

“Morning Love.” Carter greeted Richie as he walked past him and into the living room of his apartment.   
It was a short-term living arrangement, just the three of them – Carter, Richie, and Haresh. It was originally a three bedroom apartment, but one of the bedrooms had been converted into Haresh’s Study, so that he could continue his current work. He was easily vexed these days, citing that the work was slow-going. Carter and Richie made sure to keep the volume down and the small kitchen stocked with coffee.  
“Good morning!” Richie replied cheerfully.  
The younger immortal strode across the large main room to the kitchen table and leaned down for a kiss. He pulled back smiling, and crossed the room again to rummage through the kitchen cabinets for cereal.  
“You’re in an even better mood than usual; might I ask what the occasion is?” Carter asked him, watching his lover move to a silent rhythm as he poured milk over dry corn flakes and held a spoon between his lips.  
“Nothing too big, just giving Amanda a lift to the bank.” He answered as he sat across from Carter at the table. The blonde immortal’s eyes narrowed.  
“Who the bloody hell is Amanda?” most of his jealousy and concern was false, and Richie didn’t notice the part that wasn’t.  
“Amanda is Mac’s on-and-off again girlfriend, and in general a troublemaker.” Richie answered through a mouthful of cornflakes.  
“And are they on or off?” Carter asked, less successful in checking his tone this time around.  
“Relax!” Richie told him, “They’re most definitely on, and I am so not interested in her.”  
“Then why are you so eager to go?” Carter countered, not really upset, just feeling a little contrary.  
“Because she can put in a good word for me with Mac, if she is so inclined, which she will be if I help her out.” Carter rolled his eyes at himself. Of course, that was it. Richie wanted to smooth things over with his teacher before formally introducing them as – what did people say now – an item? Yes that was the phrase.  
Carter landed a chaste kiss on the younger immortals lips, but he managed to take in the flavor of cornflakes and milk before he pulled away. He looked at him apologetically and flashed him one of his signature brilliant smiles.  
“Can you blame me? You’re lucky I don’t tie you to the bed. Women today, they just cannot be trusted.” He joked.  
“Too true, especially Amanda, but she’s even worse if you stand her up, which is why I have to get going.” He said as he retreated from the table by walking backwards into the kitchen. He deposited his bowl in the sink, and donned his jacket.  
“In that case, I give you permission to chauffer a mentally unstable female immortal, just be back for lunch.” Carter said with his lips set in a smile as he went back to reading his newspaper.  
Richie saluted him as he walked out the front door of their apartment, and Carter dismissed him with a luxurious wave of his hand. He had absolute faith that Richie would come back and probably on time, but the nagging voice at the back of his head warned him against it.  
Shut up, he told it, and continued taking in a dull and dreary article on the rising price of ink pens and barbecue sauce, completely unaware as to how such news was important and how the two items were related. He shook his head and sighed.   
\--------------------------------------------  
“Amanda,” Richie began after giving the alley the once-over. “What’s wrong with a regular bank?”  
“Because my dear boy, regular banks are filled with sad little men that insist on knowing all the dreary details of my overseas money transfer.” She walked past him towards the glass front door of the grungy bank.  
“Amanda, that’s called fraud.” Richie deadpanned.  
“No Richie, it’s called CYA – cover your assets. Are you going to come in with me?” She asked him in her signature innocent tone.  
“Oh no, I think I’ll just wait by my bike.” Richie answered.  
Amanda flashed him a brilliant Cheshire cat grin, and left him standing by the motorcycle. Richie tried not to stare or look out of place in such a miserable part of town. He didn’t find it too difficult while drawing on his childhood memories of his own neighborhood. When the door of the bank opened again, he expected to see Amanda, walking out with a self-satisfied grin on her face and practically tipsy with the thrill of a heist well-done.  
Instead, he saw the barrel of an automatic gun being waved around by an immortal. He did see Amanda, but she was walking behind the guy, grasping his hand and allowing him to lead her to a grimy Chevrolet van parked across the street.  
He jumped on his bike and took off after them, not sure whether Amanda was in danger or not. Part of him screamed that this was Amanda he was dealing with, and that she never went anywhere she didn’t want to go. Then again, following the same trail of logic, Amanda never did anything that didn’t somehow involve danger and criminality.  
Richie’s heart skipped a beat as the driver of the van edged over the center line and forced him onto the shoulder. He desperately tried to make eye contact with Amanda, but the male driver was in the way, blocking any view of the lithe female immortal. He didn’t see the cement jersey wall blocking off the flooded ditch until it was ten feet under him.  
Richie hit the water with a harsh impact that popped his helmet clear off his head. He looked around, trying to see if anyone was going to stop, namely the asshole in the van. No one did, and his mood worsened in leaps and bounds as he attempted to wade out of the water and onto the bank. It proved too wet, too muddy, and far too steep to climb up, so he ended up having to wade back across the overgrown puddle to the less inclined area of the ditch.  
When he finally reached the road, sopping wet and thoroughly pissed off, he was relieved to see Amanda and the same man from the bank driving toward him in a vintage car. He waved his arms and called out, sure that the driver was simply distracted and hadn’t noticed him yet. But then the car sped up.  
Richie dived out of the way, in the only direction available to him. He hit the water again, with less impact this time, and cursed loudly and profusely. Today was off to a shitty start, and he had been in such a great mood.  
\------------------------------------------------  
Haresh and Carter caught the stench of acrid and stale water before they felt the buzz. When Richie walked in dripping from head to toe and looking as if he wanted to kill something, Haresh couldn’t decide whether to flee or laugh hysterically. He settled for hanging back and watching as Carter rushed to his boyfriend, fluttering with concern.  
“What the bloody hell happened to you?” the blonde demanded. “Did Amanda do this to you?”  
“No, her friend did.” Richie replied through clenched teeth as he peeled his clothes off. He hopped on one foot to the bathroom as he tried to get his ruined jeans off, with Carter trailing right behind him.  
“What do you mean?”  
“I mean,” Richie began as he tried and failed to turn the shower faucet on with fingers still numb from the damp cold of the drainage ditch, “she ran off with some lunatic who ran me off the road twice!”  
“What should we do?” Carter asked as he too began to disrobe. He turned the water on for Richie after his red-haired lover kicked the tile wall in frustration with enough force that he broke several of his toes.  
“Hell if I know!” Richie replied, his teeth chattering as he stepped under the scorching hot spray. Carter joined him and turned him around to put his back in the way of the cascade of water.  
“What would you like me to do?” Carter asked more softly. He held Richie by the frigidly cold skin of his arms, which were pimpled with gooseflesh.  
“I’m freezing.” Was all the younger immortal could bare to say. “And my bike is totaled and he broke all of the ribs on the right side of my chest.” He sounded like distraught child, on the verge of tears; except that these looming tears were the spawn of anger more than sadness. Richie pushed them away, down to the cavern of all his other suppressed emotions, and focused on breathing in the steam rising from the water.  
“I know.” Carter answered gently as he ran a steaming hot washcloth over his lover’s chest and back. “Do you know what kind of car it was?”  
“Vintage.” Richie replied “Like 20s or 30s vintage, definitely pre-world war II.”  
“Do you want to call Mac, or should I?” Carter asked, his voice still gentle and barely above a whisper as he ran the cloth over Richie’s trembling arms.  
“No, I’ll just show up. It might be better if you didn’t come-“ he began to say, but Carter cut him off with a kiss.  
“The last time I let you leave here alone you got run over by a friend of a friend. Besides, I want to meet this Duncan Macleod of the clan Macleod.”  
Richie sighed. He was finally getting warm. He could almost feel his fingers again, and his teeth had just stopped chattering. He leaned back into his lover’s body, and let the hot spray hit him as it cascaded down to the drain in the bottom of the shower stall.  
The day still sucked, but it was better than it had been twenty minutes ago. He liked having someone to come home to; someone to care about him even though every physical pain would pass shortly. He hadn’t realized that he missed being cared for. But a part of him felt sad, because he knew that Mac had never cared for him like that. Mac wasn’t the nurturing kind. He was protective, sure, but not of him.  
\----------------------------------------------------------  
“Hey Richie.” Duncan said, letting his surprise at seeing his former pupil show as he stepped back to allow his visitors to cross the threshold. “What’s the occasion?”  
“Amanda ran off with some guy she met while inside the bank, and the son of a bitch ran me over…twice.”  
“We thought you might know of him, he was immortal, and he drove a vintage car from the 20s or 30s.” Carter added.  
“Richie, have a look at the reference book over there, the one with the red cover and spine and see if the cars in there.” Then Duncan asked, “Who’s your friend?”  
“Carter Wellan.” The blonde immortal answered.  
Duncan felt the hair on the back of his neck stand on end at the name. He suddenly realized why the boy seemed familiar, and his mind was instantly drawn back to the conversation he’d had with Haresh a month earlier.  
“In the interest of my pupil and yours.”  
Mac’s reverie was interrupted by Richie, calling to them from the sofa. He had the book in his hands, and he had it opened to the page devoted to the 1924 Packard. His heart sank into his feet; that wasn’t good.  
“This is the one.” Richie said.  
“You’re sure?” Mac asked him as he hopped over the back of the couch to sit beside the redhead.  
“Of course he’s sure!” Carter interjected, “He got a real close look at that grill!”  
“What do you think he wants with Amanda?” Richie asked, his concern evident. Carter felt a pang of jealousy resound in his chest, but quashed it.  
“What do immortals usually want with other immortals?” Duncan asked. Carter bristled; there wasn’t any need to be condescending. He liked Duncan Macleod less and less by the minute.  
“She didn’t look like she was about to get into a fight with him Mac. It was like they were friends, I‘m serious.” Richie argued.  
“If this guy had a 24 Packard there can’t be that many places he could have gotten one from of could have had it worked on at, let’s get the phone book out.” Carter suggested.  
“No need, there’s only one vintage auto mechanic in this town – Sam’s garage on the way out of town on the side of the highway.” Richie said.  
“C’mon then, let’s get Amanda out of whatever trouble she’s wriggled her way into.” Mac said as he grabbed his coat.  
With that the three immortals were out the door, on the way to a shabby, run-down warehouse on the outskirts of town. They managed to get an address out of the crotchety old man working there, and Carter found that he was almost enjoying himself. The way Richie and Mac played off each other made him wonder if they really had ever been enemies.  
\-------------------------------------------------------

They pulled up to the address the mechanic had given them midway through the afternoon. Duncan was careful to park the car behind a dense patch of fur trees, and the three immortals slipped out of the vehicle silently. Duncan was a little confused by how closely Carter and Richie stood together, but he shoved it to the back burner of his mind; he needed to focus on finding Amanda.  
The house on the lot was essentially a log cabin, but a far grander one than any of them had ever seen classified as such. There was a full deck on the second story, an outdoor hot tub, and large glass windows poking holes through the rich wooden walls of the house. And parked just to the left of the hulking wooden frame was a dark blue 24 Packard.  
“Is that the one?” Mac whispered to Richie.  
“Oh yeah,” the youngest immortal answered. “That’s the one.” He answered as the three immortals sprinted around the car and to the front door of the house.  
“Just checking.” Duncan said, and then added, “It didn’t leave much of an impression.”   
Carter couldn’t stifle a small chuckled at the joke, and Richie glowered good-naturedly from the other side of the concrete front steps.  
“Haha, very funny Mac.” He answered.  
They stormed the house quickly, waiting for the immortal source of the buzz o show himself. But the foyer was empty, and so was the main hall. Mac led the party around a corner and there they found their target.  
The man had vibrant eyes painted dark brown and short hair a few shades closer to black than brown. He wore a white button down shirt not quite-closed at the top, and a Cheshire cat grin that could put Amanda’s to shame.  
“Okay buddy,” Richie began, holding the immortal at the end of his rapier, “Where is she?”  
Duncan couldn’t hide the surprise and mounting recognition plastered to his features however. It was clear from the expression of the unknown immortal that Mac was in fact the only one of them that he recognized.  
“Cory.” He said simply, and lowered his sword steadily. Carter followed his lead, and Richie did the same, although very grudgingly and much more slowly.  
Just then Amanda came around the corner, holding a glass of champagne in her hand and looking quite unharmed. Indeed, she looked almost exuberant, Carter thought.  
“Macleod?” She asked. Cory turned to her, momentarily ignoring the other three immortals who had just invaded his home.  
“Serial monogamist Amanda? Unless I’m seeing double, and I don’t think I am, I count three of them.”  
Richie smacked the glass of champagne from his hand. Cory turned his attention back to the red-haired immortal, then to his shattered glass, and then back to those volatile blue eyes. Carter moved to stand behind Richie, and he placed a hand on the other immortal’s shoulder. Duncan’s earlier confusion returned in full force now, and once again he tried to suppress it; now wasn’t the time.  
“Now I recognize you!” Cory said as he took a step closer to Richie. Carter’s sword was up before Mac even realized the blonde had moved his hand. “You know something? You look a lot different flying over the hood of a car.” Richie humored him with a contrived laugh before he spoke.  
“How would you like to go flying through a wall?” he deadpanned.  
“He didn’t mean anything by it Richie.” Amanda interjected, but on whose part none of them could tell. Carter thought she was doing it more to help Cory than Richie however, and the thought made him like her a little more, and it brought a tiny inner smile of pride to his features. “Did you Cory?” she added, making it obvious which of them she was trying to help.  
“Of course not.” Cory said as he adopted a smile that Richie guessed was meant to convey innocence. “I don’t know him well enough to dislike him yet.” And they were off again.  
“Why I oughta-“ Duncan cut Richie off.  
“Easy Richie!” he said.  
“Hey Kid, what’d the big deal? You’re an immortal! It’s all in fun!” Cory asked. Carter felt the floorboards holding his anger creak and give way.  
“Fun?” he demanded of the younger immortal. “Fun? You ran him over not once, but twice! How the bloody hell is that fun for anyone but you? What kind of sick, demented, bastard runs people off the road?! You’re a bloody imbecile you Tutbury* throwback!”  
Cory’s feature animated into a fiery mask of medieval anger. His lips formed words tainted with a long-forgotten accent that not even Duncan nor Amanda had heard issue from his lips before.  
“No one asked your opinion you blithering Sax! Why don’t you just take your arse back to Kingston**!”   
“Belt up*** you old biddy****!” Carter replied.  
“Go bunk up***** your rent-boy.” Cory answered him angrily.  
Now that, Duncan understood perfectly clearly, and so did Amanda. Perhaps fortunately, Richie was the only one who had absolutely no idea what had just been said of him. Carter had his sword pressed to Cory’s throat, Amanda was standing stock-still but looked rather shocked, and Duncan kept turning his head back and forth between Carter and Richie, sputtering.  
“You don’t talk about Richie like that Cory! I mean it!” Amanda said. Duncan had finally regained the ability to speak during her verbal diversion from the feud.  
“That was completely uncalled for Cory; Richie’s not like that.” Richie felt his heart pounding out a rhythm he wasn’t sure he could move to. What the hell was he supposed to do now? If ever there was a chance to come out to Macleod with witnesses, it was now. Then again, maybe he didn’t want anyone to witness this; maybe it was the worst time ever to come out. In the end, Carter made the decision for him.  
“Actually Duncan, he is like that, whatever the bloody hell you mean by that.” Duncan momentarily relapsed into an episode of sputtering. He kept moving his eyes from Richie, looking for denial, and then to Carter, searching for a spark of humor in his grey eyes.  
“We’d planned to tell you another way, later-“  
“Much later.” Richie interrupted Carter.  
“-but it didn’t quite turn out that way.” Carter jabbed the tip of his sword into Cory’s chest meaningfully.  
Richie dared to look up into his former teacher’s eyes, and he regretted it. He didn’t see what he searched for in the Highlander’s dark eyes. There was no acceptance, no smile, no laughter, no happiness; just confusion.  
“Let’s just go.” Richie said. His voice was tearful as he stormed out of the log cabin. He brushed past Duncan, who tried to grab his arm to stop him, but the younger immortal spun to the side and evaded his grip.  
“Richie!” Mac called after him.  
But it was Carter who followed him out into the night, shooting Duncan a lethal glare over his shoulder as he went.  
“Well,” Cory said. “That was interesting.”  
Even Amanda couldn’t resist the urge to glare at him. As soon as Macleod had left roughly a hour later, she began to viciously pummel the bank robber with her fists. Richie was like a brother to her, and she wouldn’t stand to let anyone call him a rent-boy, not in her presence. When she felt that Cory had been sufficiently thrashed, she turned around and followed Macleod out to the car.  
\-------------------------------------------------------  
Richie sat on the coach quietly, staring darkly at the wall in front of him. His eyes burned, and his throat was tight. He wasn’t sure if it was his pride or his fear keeping the tears at bay, but he didn’t honestly care as long one solution or the other worked. He didn’t want to cry, not over this, not ever.  
‘Like a rejected school girl’ he thought darkly. ‘Pathetic.’  
He felt Carter settle beside him on the coach. He relished in the comforting weight of the other immortal’s arm around him, but at the same time he wanted to shy away. He was emotional, and no one was supposed to see him when he was emotional.  
“I don’t know what I was expecting.” He began, but his voice came out warped from the tightness in his life.  
“You want him to accept you; that’s perfectly normal.” Carter told him softly as he rubbed patterns into the younger immortals back.  
“There is nothing normal about us!” Richie said exasperatedly. “We’re two gay immortals, how in the hell is that normal?” he continued. He regretted the words as soon as they escaped his lips.  
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that-“ he began his hasty but sincere apology. Carter cut him off with a finger to the lips.  
“It’s alright Love, we all have our down days, yours just seem to travel in packs.” The blonde said. “And as for your question – we’re two people in love; that’s as normal as you can possibly get.”  
Richie beamed at him, his depression over Duncan’s reaction forgotten for the time being. He leaned in, letting the other immortal hold him as they sat on the couch.  
“By the way,” Carter began, “I think I’m coming to like Amanda.” Richie laughed.  
“She’s cool, but the more time I send with her the closer I am to falling back into my old habits, and that’s not a place I want to go.”  
“Thieving didn’t suit you?” Carter asked jokingly.  
“Oh it suited me - quick, easy, money – but it didn’t suit my health. I was about ten pounds and one more picked lock away from a very early grave when Mac and Tessa took me in.”  
“Forgive me, but isn’t it a terribly irony that your first death came at the hands of a thief, after you yourself had stopped being one?” Haresh asked from the kitchen.  
Both immortals turned around, startled. They hadn’t known the older immortal was home, much less in the same room. Richie blushed a tiny bit, but quickly forced the flush away from his cheeks. Neither of his roommates failed to notice however, but they let him think they that they were oblivious.  
Haresh allowed a smile to spread over his features as he looked at the two comparatively young immortals sitting on the couch. He had a cup of steaming hot coffee in his hand, and he held a large stack of papers in the other. The papers were held together by a large alligator clip, and both of the younger men eyes the pages suspiciously.  
“Is that the book?” Carter asked his teacher.  
“Yes, the first draft of it anyway. I’ll drop it off at the post office tomorrow and wait for Shaneika to send it back to me with her suggestions.”  
“Should we celebrate?” Richie asked tentatively.  
“Oh yes – 700 pages in less than two months – I need a beer. But it will have to wait until tomorrow I am afraid.”  
“You aren’t the only one old man.” Carter said only half in-jest. “Wait until you hear about our day.” He added.  
The oldest immortal in residence walked around the couch to sit in the armchair, and propped his feet up.   
“I am all ears boys.”  
And then they were off, talking and drinking and laughing. Richie was dimly reminded of his life with Tessa and Mac back in the antiques store and on the barge. He smiled into his glass as he took a swig of his cheap bottles beer.   
Things were finally looking up.

**Author's Note:**

> * According to the Highlander Wiki page for Cory, he’s from Tutbury, England  
> ** According to the same source, Carter is from Kingston-Upon-Thames (i.e. Kingston). Judging from the time period he could be of either Norman or Saxon descent, but Wellan actually comes from Whelan, which is Irish, so I’m not sure what to do…  
> *** Belt Up – shut up, be quiet, etc.  
> **** Old Biddy – old woman, little old lady, etc.   
> ***** Bunk up – as a verb it means to have sexual intercourse, but it’s more common as a noun


End file.
